“I was not thinking of drinking, my lad,” said the lieutenant, “but of quenching the fire that may be started by our enemies.”
“You don’t think that they will try to fire the place, sir?” said the lad.
“Indeed, but I do, my lad. But at any rate we must be prepared for such an attack.”
Roberts puckered up his forehead and looked aghast at his officer, and then bidding four of the men follow him, he did his best to collect together on the landing of the well-appointed building a pretty fair supply of the element necessary for extinguishing the first out-breakings of fire which might be started by the expected foe.
“Well done, Mr Roberts,” said the lieutenant; “but we’ve rather upset this Mr—Mr—What’s his name?”
“Allen, sir.”
“Yes—Allen. Upset Mr Allen’s house. It’s a bit of a surprise to find an English gentleman.—Yes, gentleman, Mr Roberts: he is evidently quite a gentleman, although he is completely under that Yankee scoundrel’s thumb. But what was I saying? Oh, it’s rather a surprise to find an English gentleman living like this in an out-of-the-way West Indian island?”
“That’s what I thought, sir,” replied Roberts.
“Ah, well, you need not feel so again, for numbers of men of our best families have settled out like this in the plantations, built themselves good houses, and surrounded themselves with every comfort, and grown rich producing sugar, coffee, cotton and rum by means of a large staff of slaves. We have fallen upon one of these estates, but in this case the Yankee overseer seems to be the master, and the real master the slave.”
“It seems strange, sir, doesn’t it?” said Roberts, who was standing by one of the first floor windows keeping a sharp look out for danger.